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Sunday, March 27, 2016

This is for everyone who wanted one more scene at the end of At Your Service.

Au parc Monceau

Paul checked the next day’s weather one more time. The
weather report had promised sunny skies all week, but it paid to be careful. He
had everything else in order. All he needed was for the weather to cooperate
with his plans.

Sunny skies, warm temperatures—for March anyway—the
perfect day for what he had planned.

“Paul, come to bed.”

Paul switched off the computer, checked his surprise
where it was hidden one last time, and did as Anthony asked.

Anthony waited patiently the next morning as Paul
fussed about their shared apartment. Paul had refused to say what he’d planned
for the day, the Tuesday after the Salon du Livre ended. It had become their
tradition to spend the day together as they had the year they’d met, so sure
that it would be their last day together. Now it was a celebration of
everything they’d gone through to get where they were. Maurice hadn’t even
needed to be reminded to give Paul Tuesday off instead of Wednesday this week.

That still didn’t explain Paul’s secrecy, though. The
last few years, he’d been eager to share his plans for the day with Anthony.

‘I’m ready,” Paul said, finally coming into the living
room where Anthony waited.

“About time.”

They walked down to Convention and caught the Métro
north. That didn’t really tell Anthony anything. There were only three stops
south of theirs and none of them led to anywhere particularly interesting.
They’d waited late enough in the day that rush hour traffic on the line had
cleared, allowing them to sit side by side as they passed station after
station.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Anthony
asked.

“No.”

Anthony laughed. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Paul stood as they neared Concorde and led Anthony
toward the Défense line. Anthony had expected to go the opposite way when he
saw which stop they were taking. They often wandered the Marais in their spare
time, but that was east, not west. When Paul got off at
Charles-de-Gaulle-Étoile, Anthony gave up trying to figure out where they were
going. The Arc de Triomphe was a lovely monument, but they had never spent the
day after the Salon du Livre doing touristy things, and the only time they’d
gone to the Arc de Triomphe was when Matt came to visit.

Paul took Anthony’s hand as they turned away from
l’Étoile and up one of the arteries leading to the most famous roundabout in
the city. Anthony squeezed back. Wherever Paul was leading them, he would enjoy
it.

Fifteen minutes later, the entrance to parc Monceau
came into view. Anthony grinned. “You’re sneaky, bringing us in this way
instead of directly.”

“I didn’t want to give it away too soon,” Paul said.
Anthony wasn’t sure what Paul thought he would be giving away by telling
Anthony they were coming back to this particular park, but he’d enjoy it
regardless.

“Not that I’m complaining, because coming here is
always a treat, but why the secrecy?”

Paul flushed but didn’t answer. Anthony rolled his
eyes and followed Paul past the decorative gates and into the peaceful park. A
few joggers ran by as they made their way deeper into the park. The sun had
lured out some mothers with infants in carriages as well as some grandmothers
bundled up against the breeze.

Paul led Anthony to the bridge that overlooked the
stream where they’d had lunch the first time they came to the park three years
ago. Anthony leaned against the stone rail and let himself relax.

Whatever Paul
had up his sleeve, Anthony would wait for the surprise. He closed his eyes and
tilted his face toward the sun, basking in its warmth. The winter hadn’t been
as cold as the year he moved to Paris, but it had still been colder than what
he’d been used to in North Carolina.

“Anthony?”

Anthony opened his eyes and looked down to see Paul on
one knee. He started to ask what Paul was doing, but before he could get the
words out, Paul took his hand and continued, “Lunch here with you three years
ago was a start to an adventure I didn’t ever think I’d have… I didn’t even
think I’d want to have. Now I can’t
imagine any other life. Will you marry me?”

Anthony blinked a couple of times at the sight of the
ring in Paul’s hand. Sunlight glistened off the gold band. He’d half-expected a
day in a park, and he hadn’t even been surprised at Paul choosing this one, but
he hadn’t expected a proposal.

Paul slipped the ring on Anthony’s finger and leaned
in to kiss him. A couple of people cheered and clapped, but Anthony tuned them
out to focus on Paul. He returned the kiss and then broke away to stare down at
the ring on his finger. He and Paul were getting married.

Eighteen
months ago, tragedy struck Bywater Farm when a riding accident killed
Clay Hunter’s lover and traumatized his prize horse, King of Hearts.
Clay and King lingered in limbo, surviving but not really living, until a
breath of fresh air in the form of Luke Davis, a new groom in the stud
barn, revives them both.

When a fall from King’s back
sends Luke to the emergency room, Clay watches the shaky foundation of
their budding relationship tumble down. Can Clay really love a jockey
again, or will his fear of losing another man he loves keep them apart
for good?

Excerpt:

“Ready
to go back outside?” Luke asked as he picked up King’s blanket. King sniffed at
it for a minute before turning so Luke could spread the blanket over his back
and secure it around his chest with the thin strap. He clipped the lead rope
back on King’s halter and led him through the barn to the paddock.

After
he let King loose, he watched for a minute as the stallion bucked and raced
around the sizable enclosure, but he had work to do inside still. He couldn’t
spend his whole day admiring his new charge.

He
started back toward the barn, only to freeze and wish he could sink into the
shadows. Mr. Hunter stood at the far corner
of the barn, watching King as well. Luke debated pretending he hadn’t seen
him—Mr. Hunter had given no sign of being aware of Luke’s presence—but he owed
Mr. Hunter a thank-you, if nothing else.

“He
seems happy to be outside,” Luke said as he crossed the space between him and
his boss.

“He’s
always preferred to be outside,” Mr. Hunter said. “It doesn’t matter how cold
or hot or wet it is, he’d rather be out in it than cooped up in a stall.”

“I’ll
keep that in mind,” Luke said. “I can turn him out first thing in the morning
and let him stay out if we don’t need him for something. He’s not likely to get
out of his paddock.”

Mr.
Hunter huffed a laugh so full of disbelief and irony that Luke wanted to sink
into the ground. “Have you seen him jump? If he wanted out of that paddock,
he’d be gone. He jumps five- and six-foot hurdles like they’re nothing.”

“I’ve
seen him,” Luke said softly, “but only on TV. I always thought of the jumps as
something horses did because they had to, not something they did just because.”

“For
most horses, you’re right. They’d rather go around a barrier than over it, and
they’ll let one stop them if they aren’t driven across it, but every once in a
while, one will come along who doesn’t need the encouragement. King was one of
those horses.”

“It’s
a shame he’s not still competing,” Luke said.

Mr.
Hunter’s face contorted with grief and anger. “He hasn’t let anyone ride him
since the accident, and I won’t risk hurting him or a rider. He can earn his
living as a stud. His career supports it.”

Luke
wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He couldn’t seem to say
anything right today. “I should get back to work. I have a lot to do still.”

“The
vet will be here after lunch to take a semen sample. I expect you to be there
to keep King calm.”

Sunday, March 6, 2016

This originally appeared in the Myths & Magic anthology which is now out of print, so I thought I'd share it with all of you. It's a complete, free short story for all of you to enjoy!

The One

Rylan limped toward home, cursing the injury that had forced him out of his
faster form and left him naked and vulnerable to anyone who happened across
him. He only hoped he’d managed to outpace the hunters whose arrow had scored
his flank before he was forced to change. He knew their kind. He’d be in a cage
before he could blink if they caught him, and that would kill the wild heart
within him—a death sentence for sure. He could survive quite well in either
form for extended periods of time, but he needed the freedom to run, as man or
beast.

He stumbled, his injured leg giving out on him, the fall leaving scrapes
on bare skin. He cursed again, wishing he could shift. Four legs would be far
steadier than two.

“Are you all right?”

The sound of a voice in this usually deserted corner of the forest
surprised Rylan. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his leg gave out
again. “No,” he admitted, studying the man who stood a few feet away in the
woods. He was tall and broad through the shoulders, but lean at the waist and
hips, with long, long legs, perfect for gripping the back of a horse—or a
lover’s body. Pitch-black hair topped olive-colored skin, the equally dark eyes
warm with the offer of aid. Usually skittish around strangers, Rylan could
sense no ill intent, nor did the beast inside him stir as it was wont to do in
the presence of a threat. “I’ve hurt my leg.”

The man stepped closer. “May I look at it? I’ve some skill with healing.”

Rylan had no idea what a human’s tricks could do for him, but he did not
see any harm in finding out. Even if all he got was a bandage around his thigh
and a hand to keep going until he could get home, it was more than he had now.
Carefully, he rolled to his side, showing his benefactor the long gash on the
back of his leg.

“You didn’t do that yourself,” the man said immediately. “You were shot.”

“It was clean,” the healer
corrected. “It’s caked in mud now. We need to get you to shelter so I can clean
and dress it properly. I’m Dane, by the way. If you’ll lean on me, I have a
horse not far from here. She can carry you to my cabin, where I can get you
patched up and on your way.”

Rylan shook his head, for as delightful as it sounded not to have to walk,
he knew what would happen if he tried to mount the animal. He’d been thrown
before. Horses didn’t need to see his other form to know he wasn’t fully human.
Their equine senses recognized him immediately and refused to let his human
form mount them any more than if he’d been in his true form. “She won’t carry
me. Thank you for the offer, though. I’m Rylan.”

“How do you know?” Dane asked, confused. “You haven’t even seen her
yet.”

Rylan shook his head. “I’ve yet to meet a horse that will let me on its
back for more than the few seconds it takes to throw me. If you’ll help me to
my feet, I’ll be on my way again. My own home is not far.”

Dane approached and offered Rylan a hand. Rylan managed to get to his
feet, but his leg held him for only another few steps. With a muttered curse,
he looked up at Dane. “Perhaps I am more in need of assistance than I
realized.”

Rylan was right about the horse, but he had not counted on Dane’s
determination. The mare would not bear him, but Dane did not give up, loading
the entirety of his pack onto his horse’s back instead so he could put his
shoulder beneath Rylan’s arm and his arm around Rylan’s waist, taking the bulk
of Rylan’s weight on himself. They moved slowly, but they made progress, and an
hour before dark, they reached a little dwelling nestled in the woods.

Rylan’s sense of direction told him they were far closer to his own home
than he would have expected, for he thought he knew the woods and its
inhabitants well. “Have you lived here long?”

Dane shrugged. “For three seasons now. When winter gives way to spring,
I will have been here a year.” He helped Rylan inside, the beast within Rylan
growing restless at being confined in the unfamiliar space. Rylan soothed it
with the reminder that he needed help and that Dane had been nothing but
considerate.

“I’m surprised we have not met before,” Rylan murmured, breathing a sigh
of relief as he was able to sit and take the weight completely off his wounded
thigh.

“I don’t go out much,” Dane said as he opened a cabinet and began taking
out herbs and tinctures to tend Rylan’s wound.

“Why not?” Rylan asked, surprised. “If you have the skill you say you
have, I would think you would be in high demand.”

“That was the problem,” Dane muttered, so softly Rylan would not have
heard him without his acute senses. Deciding it best not to reveal the
abilities brought about by his dual nature, Rylan let the comment go, waiting
until Dane gave a louder answer. “My skills are mine to use as I see fit.”

“Then I shall say thank you for using them on me,” Rylan said as Dane approached.

“We’ll see if you still say that after I’ve dunked you and dosed you,”
Dane said with a laugh. “My medicines will do no good on a dirty wound.”

As the sun dropped below the horizon, Rylan settled on a pallet in front of Dane’s fire, amazed at how much better his leg felt already. The healer had
washed his wound carefully, making sure it was completely free of dirt and
debris before covering it in a thick paste the color of the sunset. Rylan had
no idea what was in the paste, but he could practically feel his leg healing as
he lay there.

In the dim light of the fire, Rylan could see little detail of Dane’s
home, naught but the table set into shadows, yet the place felt safe. Rylan’s
beast was as relaxed as he was, a surprise in itself because of the wound that
kept him from changing. Usually, when he was hurt, he had to fight to keep the
animal inside him under control. The pain kept him in human form, but the
inability to shift left his mind in turmoil. Dane seemed to have a calming
effect, making Rylan wonder what magic besides healing the man possessed. In
his other form, perhaps he could have identified the source, his beast able to
sense far more about a person than Rylan could do in human form. Given his
current inability to change, he would simply have to accept the situation at
face value.

The exterior door opened, allowing a gust of wind to enter, chilling Rylan
even beneath the thick blanket Dane had provided him. “Are the animals
settled?”

Dane nodded, turning his back to Rylan and stripping off his shirt.
Rylan barely smothered a gasp at the sight of the scars crisscrossing Dane’s
back. They appeared healed, but it was obvious someone had taken great pains to
whip the man badly in the not terribly distant past. Rylan’s beast screamed in
protest at the thought, surprising the man with its ferocity. Then Dane turned, and Rylan caught a glimpse of a much more foreboding mark. Dane had
an M branded into his shoulder. M for murderer.

The rational part, the human part of Rylan’s brain urged him to flee, but
he was not strong enough to get far. Even more importantly, the animal inside
him felt no fear. Dane might be many things. He might even be a murderer, but
he was no threat to Rylan. Of that much he was sure.

“Who died?”

Dane’s head whipped around, his hand covering his shoulder
automatically. “You… you can see my mark?”

Rylan cursed silently. He should have realized Dane would never have
undressed if he thought Rylan could see him. “I’ve always seen well at night.
You didn’t answer my question.”

“The local lord’s son,” Dane said, his voice tight as he pulled a clean
shirt on over his head. “I tried to help him, but he was too far gone by the
time I got there. I tried explaining that, but the man was crazy with his
grief. He insisted I had killed his son. They tried me and branded me. They
were going to hang me, but I escaped.”

“Three seasons ago.”

Dane nodded. “I won’t go back. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you try
to turn me in, I will find a way to stop you.”

“Don’t worry,” Rylan said, though he knew Dane had no reason to trust
him. “I have my own reasons for wanting to stay as far away from the nobility
as possible.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? Everyone else who has ever seen it has run
away in fear.”

“Because I know you don’t mean me any harm,” Rylan replied honestly.

“How?”

“You aren’t the only one with secrets, Dane,” Rylan said, evading the
question. “So they accused you of murder and you ran here to hide.”

“They say a terrible beast lives in these woods,” Dane explained. “The
people from the village won’t come here.”

“And if the beast finds you?”

“I’ll take my chances,” Dane said.

Rylan hid a smile. He already knew what the beast’s reaction to Dane would be. “If you see the beast, just remember that it can read your
intentions. It will never hurt someone with a pure heart.”

“How do you know?” Dane asked, coming to sit at Rylan’s side, his eyes
alight with excitement.

“You aren’t the only one who lives in these woods,” Rylan reminded him,
though it was no real answer. He could hardly tell Dane that he was the beast. For one thing, Dane would never believe him, and he couldn’t change in his current state to
convince the man.

“You’ve seen it? What does it look like?”

“It looks like a horse, with a few minor exceptions,” Rylan answered
honestly, having seen his reflection in the pond as he drank. “It has a horn
that sprouts from its forehead and extends nearly the length of your arm. Its
coat is black as night during the day and white as the moon at night. It is a
peaceful creature, as long as it isn’t threatened, but if it fears you, it can
use its horn with all the dexterity of a sword. I have seen more than one man
spitted through by its sharp point.”

“It sounds fearsome,” Dane said. “I will do my best to avoid coming to
its attention.”

Rylan could have told Dane he had nothing to fear, but then he would
have to give an explanation he was not ready to offer. The few people in the
past he had told had reacted badly. In one instance, he had barely escaped with
his life. No, it was far better to keep his secret for the time he was here and
leave Dane in his ignorance.

Three days later, the wound on Rylan’s thigh had closed completely. Although it
was still stiff and sore, Rylan could move his leg and even put his weight on
it for short periods of time. With the freedom from debilitating pain came the
need to shift, something he could not do in Dane’s company or in his home. Even
if the man could accept it, Rylan’s animal would not. In his other form, he
could not bear any kind of confinement.

When Dane went out to check on his animals, Rylan disrobed so he would
not damage the clothes Dane had lent him and slipped out into the woods. As
soon as he could no longer hear the cackling of the hens the healer kept in a
pen behind his house, Rylan changed, his body stretching and reforming to
become the black unicorn that struck fear into the hearts of the villagers in
the surrounding towns. He shook his head, ruffling his mane, the movement
working its way down his body until he had stretched every muscle.

Taking a few tentative steps, he tested his injured leg, finding the
muscle as sore in animal form as in human form, but not so much that he could
not walk. His animal mind resented not being able to run, but even in equine
form, he retained enough of his humanity to control the urge to ignore the pain
and gallop through the woods toward home. He knew he should go back to Dane’s
and take his leave properly, but the desire to find the solace of his own abode
was nearly overwhelming. He turned his head back toward Dane’s cabin, and
then regretfully began the long walk home.

An hour later, he was regretting his decision. His leg was throbbing,
making it harder and harder to walk, and he still had some distance to travel.
Furthermore, he could hear someone approaching. When he was well, he feared no
one, but in his current state, he did not have the speed to defend himself
should the need arise. There was nothing for it, though. He would have to face
his tracker and hope for the best. Lowering his horn threateningly, he turned
back and waited.

Dane walked into the clearing where he stood.

The sight of his benefactor took Rylan’s breath away. In his human form,
he had come to know the man over the past few days, appreciating Dane’s
gentle hands, his sharp wit, and his handsome face, but now, as a unicorn, he
could sense so much more. He could sense the basic goodness at the heart of the
man and the untouched innocence, which lured the unicorn like nothing else. He
was not repelled by the sexual experience of those around him, but the unicorn
inside him still felt the lure of the virgin. Especially when he already knew
and cared about the virgin.

Slowly Rylan lifted his head so his horn pointed toward the sky rather
than toward Dane’s chest, and waited to see what the man would do. Even with
the distance between them, Rylan could hear Dane’s heart pounding in his
chest, another advantage of his shifted form, but the man did not back away.

“Rylan was right about you,” Dane said. “He told me you were peaceful as
long as I didn’t have any ill intent.” He took a step forward.

Rylan’s muscles quivered, but he stayed where he was. His human mind knew
he should leave before Dane saw the wound on his thigh, so comparable to the
one the man had been treating, but the unicorn’s desire was stronger, the need
to feel Dane’s hands on his neck, his shoulder, his flank too great to
overrule. Angling his body so Dane would approach his good side, he let the
man draw near, blowing hard to ruffle his black hair.

Rylan couldn’t believe he had gone this long withoutDane touching him. His entire body vibrated with the
sense of rightness at each stroke of tender hands over his hide, his heart
crying out in joy at the nearness of an innocent, someone who could be his One.
He nickered softly, trying to convey without words how much he enjoyed the
caresses, how much he wanted them to continue.

Dane laughed again, a sound Rylan had heard too rarely in the days they
had spent together. The fear of discovery kept Dane somber more often than
not, but it seemed Rylan’s unicorn form brought out the lighter side of his
personality.

“What is this?” Dane said suddenly. “You’re hurt!”

Rylan did not stop to think. He fled.

He could not let Dane discover the truth. That reality had been driven
into him since he was a child and had first learned to change. He could not let
anyone realize his dual nature, at the risk of being captured or even killed,
and experience had only reinforced that lesson. He ran as far as his injured
leg would carry him, collapsing to the ground in human form when the pain
became too much.

He cursed under his breath at finding himself back in the same position as
when he and Dane had first met. His leg was in better shape now than it had
been then, even after his reckless run, but the weather was far worse. The wind
whistled threateningly in the trees above his head, bringing with it the heavy
smell of impending rain. Lightning crackled between the low-hanging clouds, the
acrid smell of ozone making him realize how close the storm really was. He
pushed to his feet, limping as he tried to continue toward his home.

“Rylan!”

Shoulders slumping, Rylan turned to face Dane. “We have to stop meeting
like this,” he joked, but Dane’s face remained stern.

“What are you doing out here with a storm brewing and no clothes on?”
Dane scolded.

“It’s a long story,” Rylan said with a sigh as the first fat raindrops hit
the canopy of leaves. “My home is not far. If you will help me there, I’ll try
to explain.”

Dane nodded and slid his shoulder beneath Rylan’s arm, supporting his
weight as he had done the day they met. “Which way?”

Rylan guided them through the woods to his home, the stone dwelling built
into the cliff face next to a small waterfall that fed a normally placid pond.
The wind and driving rain stirred the surface, leaving it choppy with
white-capped waves. They stumbled to the door, Rylan working the locking
mechanism to allow them entrance. Heart pounding, he stepped over the
threshold, Dane at his side, the first man to ever enter Rylan’s domain.

“You should dry off,” Rylan said, avoiding Dane’s eyes. “There is a
towel by the sink. I will find something dry for you to wear, even if it’s only
a blanket.”

“Take the time to dry off and dress as well,” Dane urged. “I will start
a fire for us.”

Rylan nodded and retreated into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him
and leaning back against it for a moment. He had invited a man into his home.
He wasn’t a monk. Dane would not be his first lover—he had no illusions they
would end up anywhere but in Rylan’s bed—but Dane would be the first man
Rylan had welcomed into his bed. The
first man his unicorn had ever acknowledged. The One, the virgin he would bind
to forever.

Taking a deep breath, Rylan found a towel and dried off, dressing in his
own clothes again for the first time in three days. He rummaged through the
armoire, looking for something that would fit Dane, but the man was too big.
Rylan settled for pulling the blanket from his bed. Stepping back into the main
room, he paused for a moment to appreciate the vision of Dane in only a
towel, kneeling in front of the fireplace, his body limned in gold from the
light of the burgeoning flames.

“You must be cold,” Rylan said, struggling to keep his voice even as he
draped the blanket around Dane’s shoulders. “What were you doing out in the
woods?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Dane replied, rising from his
crouch to face Rylan.

“Then why run away like a thief in the night?” Dane asked. “You could
have asked me to come with you, if only to make sure you got here safely. You
didn’t need to sneak out of the house—naked, no less—while I was outside.”

“I told you that first night you were not the only one with secrets,”
Rylan said defensively. “I didn’t mean to discover yours, but that doesn’t mean
I’m ready to share mine.”

Dane wrapped the blanket more securely around his shoulders. “So you ran
away instead.”

Rylan shrugged. “That’s why I was in the woods. What’s your excuse?”

“I was looking for you,” Dane replied slowly, his eyes searching Rylan’s
face as if he could find answers to some silent question there. “I found far
more than I expected.”

Heart pounding so loud he was sure Dane could hear it, Rylan struggled
to keep his voice steady and his face blank. “Really?”

Dane frowned, but went on. “But I noticed something odd. He had a scar
on his left hind leg that matches the wound on your thigh perfectly.”

“That is odd,” Rylan agreed, his voice sounding strangled to his own ears.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a shifter?”

“For the same reason you didn’t tell me about the brand on your arm,”
Rylan snapped. “It’s a good way to get myself killed.”

Dane’s hands landed hot and heavy on Rylan’s shoulders. “You know better
than that. If I had any intention of harming you, I would have done it
already.”

“But that was before you knew what I am,” Rylan reminded him. “Unicorns
have been killed for their horns. Surely you know that.”

“I do,” Dane agreed, “but I also know they’re less likely to be killed
than a man with the mark of a murderer on his arm. Unicorn or not, I mean you
no harm. For the first time in three seasons, I have had the company of another
person for more than a swift business transaction. You saw the brand on my arm,
but you never once condemned me. You asked me who died, not who I had killed. I
think I fell in love with you from those words alone.”

Rylan started to shake his head, but Dane’s lips brushed his, stilling
the movement and winning a gasp of surprise from Rylan’s lips. The kiss was
awkward in its innocence, Dane clearly having no idea what he was doing, but
Rylan could not have cared less. His innocent, his virgin, his One, was kissing
him of his own volition, and nothing had ever felt so right.

“I need you to hear me,” Rylan said, breaking the kiss with difficulty.
“Right now, my beast desires you, and if you choose to leave, it will fight to
go after you, but I will win because I am not my beast. If you stay, if you let
me have you, you will be mine, my One, and no power in the world will be enough
to keep me from coming after you if you try to leave. If you are not completely
sure you can love me in both my forms, you need to leave now, because I won’t
be able to offer a second time. The lure of the virgin is nearly overwhelming
for a unicorn, and my own attraction to you only adds to that.” He took a
breath to slow the rush of words, steeling himself for Dane’s rejection. “You
need to decide now.”

“There is nothing to decide,” Dane replied, renewing the kiss. “You are
all I stopped letting myself dream of the moment they put this brand on my
arm.”

Rylan wanted to ask if he was certain, but he could only fight the unicorn
within him for so long in the face of such provocative temptation.

“You are mine now,” he swore, pushing the blanket aside and turning Dane toward the bedroom.

Dane made no protest as they moved into the other room, though Rylan
could sense his nervousness. He turned Dane back around, kissing him
tenderly, the emotion in the gesture, the interest his beast showed for the
first time in his intimate life, making it easy to go slow and give Dane a
moment to adjust to their intimacy. Rylan had fucked many men in his life, but
never before had he made love. Never before had he taken a man to his bed with
the full acceptance of his unicorn nature. Never before had he claimed a man.

His hands wandered carefully, gentling Dane as earlier Dane had
gentled the unicorn. Their lips stayed pressed together, moving against each
other, parting for a quick breath, then joining again. Rylan could swear he
felt their souls touching in that contact. He waited for Dane to touch him in
return, but his virgin was too shy for that, apparently. Rylan looked forward
to teaching him confidence, but that could wait for later, when Dane trusted
the depth and permanence of Rylan’s love. For now, Rylan would take charge and
claim his virgin, his mate. His One.

He had always known his other half would fixate on someone someday, and
that when that happened, he would be bound to that person for life, but knowing
and experiencing were two completely different things. The reverence that
imbued his touch as he discovered every plane and hollow of Dane’s body had
never before been present in his bed sport. His own pleasure had no importance
in the face of Dane’s need. And when their bodies finally joined, the tender
indignities of flesh piercing flesh faded to nothing compared to the knowledge
of soul mating with soul.

Time stretched and slowed as their breathing returned, finally, to normal
and their pulses steadied again. Rylan rolled to one side, keeping Dane tightly in his embrace so his virgin—even if Dane was considerably less
virginal than an hour ago—would not feel rejected.

“So what happens now?” Dane asked after a few minutes. “You called me
yours, but I don’t know what that means. In practical terms.”

Rylan pushed up on one elbow. “Unicorns are fascinated by innocents,
virgins. I’m not sure you could have approached me in animal form earlier
tonight if you hadn’t been untouched. I wouldn’t have hurt you, because I knew
you meant me no harm, but I’m not sure I could have stayed still while you
petted me like you did. In my human form, it isn’t simply an abstract
fascination. It’s a mating instinct. I’ve always known that, someday, my
unicorn would find a virgin who would be my virgin, my One.”

“Except I’m not a virgin anymore,” Dane pointed out.

“No.” Rylan had to agree, since he had taken part in the deflowering. “But
I caused that, and so instead of my
unicorn seeing you as tainted, it sees you as mine. Nothing we ever do together
in love will tarnish your innocence in the eyes of my beast. How is it that you
have reached an age and a maturity to be my One without ever having taken a
lover?”

“I never met a man I respected enough to take to my bed,” Dane replied.
“Apparently I needed a unicorn instead.”

The answer was, perhaps, simplistic, but Rylan accepted it for now. He
would have time to learn more of his mate’s past as they built their future.
The details could wait.

Winter had given way to spring finally, and both Rylan and Dane were ready for
the freedom the warmer weather allowed. The snow had been uncommonly heavy,
making it hard for Rylan to run in unicorn form. He had changed frequently, his
unicorn as possessive of Dane as Rylan was, but while he had reveled in letting
Dane brush him and stroke him, they had not been able to go for many rides.
Now that the snow had finally melted everywhere but under the densest stands of
trees, Rylan wanted to take his mate on his back and run.

Over the winter, they had worked toward Dane being able to ride Rylan in
unicorn form. Even with Dane, his One whom he trusted implicitly, Rylan’s
unicorn had been nervous at first about accepting a rider. It had taken all of
Rylan’s will and all of Dane’s persuasiveness to convince the animal to let
Danefirst lean and later sit on its back. Finally, though, they had reached
the point where Dane could take a short ride around the protected yard. The
sensation of having Dane’s long, long legs stretching across his back and down
his sides, gripping him tightly for even that distance, had been enough to
result in a frenzied session of lovemaking. Rylan could only imagine—and
anticipate—the results of a real run.

“Are you ready?” he called impatiently to Dane, who was still in the
house.

“Hold your horses,” Dane joked, coming out of the house.

“Who are you calling a horse?” Rylan retorted, a grin forming at the easy
teasing.

“Not you,” Dane said immediately. “I want my ride today, and I know what
will happen if I insult you.”

“What will happen?” Rylan asked, drawing Dane into his arms. He stroked
the strong arms bared by the sleeveless shirt Dane wore, thrilled that the
man no longer felt the need to hide the brand from Rylan’s eyes.

“You’ll pout, and the unicorn won’t let me mount,” Dane said. “And that
would ruin the rest of my plans.”

“And what are the rest of your plans?” Rylan asked, though he thought he
knew.

Dane grinned mischievously. “Finding a secluded spot and convincing you
to switch back to human form so you can ravish me thoroughly.”

That coincided exactly with Rylan’s plans. “What makes you think I have
any intention of ravishing you?”

Dane held up the small vial he had found tucked among his clothes that
morning. “The fact that you left this for me, since you can’t carry anything
when you’re in unicorn form. Come on, change already, so we can go.”

Rylan stripped, shivering a little as the breeze picked up, his human
flesh far more sensitive to temperature than his equine body. Usually, Dane’s
hands would have been all over him as he bared himself for the change, but
today it seemed the man was as eager as Rylan was. With a stretch and a shake,
he shifted, turning to nudge Dane with his horn. Dane approached the animal
cautiously, because even after their practice rides, the unicorn remained
skittish at first, but Rylan’s eagerness overcame the beast’s fears and Dane mounted with ease. Rylan took a deep breath, calming his unicorn’s nerves and
reining in his own anticipation. Dane’s pat on his neck gave him the sign he
needed that his One was settled and ready to go.

The unicorn began at an easy walk, growing accustomed to the extra weight
on his back, to the way it moved and shifted with and against him. Dane made
no move to guide Rylan, content to let the unicorn explore on his own, much to
Rylan’s relief. He was not sure the animal inside him would have taken such
direction.

When he was comfortable, he picked up the pace a little, alert for any
sign of discomfort or distress on Dane’s part. Despite his intention of being
careful, their lovemaking the night before had degenerated into a pounding,
Dane demanding more and more until Rylan’s reserves broke. The body on his
back moved with him easily, though, nothing in the hands resting lightly on
Rylan’s mane or the legs wrapped firmly around his girth suggesting anything
more than pure enjoyment of the day and the sunshine and the ride.

The need to run became overwhelming finally, and Rylan gave in to it, his
hooves pounding the uneven ground as he raced along the narrow track between
the trees. Dane moved with him as if they were one body, making Rylan long
for them to be joined in another way. Turning toward the hot springs that
bubbled up from the base of a nearby mountain, he raced in that direction,
already anticipating making love to his One in the bubbly water.

Dane dismounted when Rylan stopped near the springs. The unicorn gave a
restless shake of its head and transformed back into the man. The very aroused
man.

“It looks like you enjoyed our ride nearly as much as I did,” Dane said
with a grin, pulling Rylan toward him.

Laughing, Dane pulled the shirt over his head and started undoing the
laces on his trousers. Rylan moved to help when a noise caught his attention.
“Someone’s coming,” he said tersely. “It sounds like a group.”

Dane nodded, his face sober as he refastened his pants and reached for
his shirt. “Change. We can always come back later.”

Rylan stretched, his body transforming as Dane pulled his shirt over his
head. Before Dane could mount, though, five men broke free of the woods.
Everyone froze for a moment before one of the men shouted Dane’s name. The
others took up the cry, rushing toward the man, heedless of Rylan at his side.

The fell intent in their hearts spurred Rylan forward, his body blocking Dane’s from the oncoming crowd. They did not appear to have bows with them,
fortunately, but Rylan would have fought them even then. No one threatened his
One. No one. He lowered his horn, charging the group. He hoped his aggression
would frighten them into retreat, but he had not counted on their greed. The
emotion he could feel roiling from them made no sense until one of the men
shouted about the price on Dane’s head. That only added to Rylan’s anger.
These men would steal his heart from him for money? They could think again.

Rylan reared high, his hooves thrashing just above the head of the nearest
man. When the man’s response was to draw his sword, Rylan lowered his head and
skewered the man without regret. He tossed his head, the man’s body flying
through the air to land lifelessly at the feet of a nearby tree. The other four
hesitated after that, not sure they wanted to face Rylan’s horn, but the lure
of the bounty was great.

Before Rylan could lunge again, he felt tender hands on his side and a leg
over his back. “Go,” Dane said. “Don’t sink to their level when their only
crime is greed. They can’t follow us. Run.”

Rylan was tempted to ignore the admonition, but his One ruled his actions
as surely as his heart. Springing forward, he reached the track the men had
taken to arrive, hoping to throw them off his trail by not returning directly
home. His hooves thundered hard on the forest floor as he raced away from those
who would have hurt Dane. He could feel Dane clinging to him, bent over his
neck, hands tangled in his mane. All the pleasure of the earlier ride had
disappeared in the face of the villagers’ violence, and not even Dane’s legs
squeezing tightly around Rylan’s belly could restore it. Not until he knew
Dane was safe.

Arriving at a stream, he splashed into the bed, traveling downstream for
some miles so the water would hide his tracks before leaving the watercourse
and turning toward home. His subterfuge would slow their pursuers, but the
villagers knew Dane was in the woods now, in the company of the beast. They
would be back, and in greater numbers. When they entered the yard, Dane slid
from Rylan’s back.

“You defended me,” Dane said as Rylan shimmered back into human form.

“Gather everything of value,” Rylan said. “We must leave as soon as we can
load the pack horse. It will take them time to find us, but they will not give
up.”

Dane caught Rylan’s arm as he started toward the house. “You defended
me.”